Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: Queriche[Around Town]: Moriarty Investigations, Inc.
Message-ID: <1992Aug6.223611.2555@kakwa.ucs.ualberta.ca>
Date: Thu, 6 Aug 1992 22:36:11 GMT

Moriarty surveyed with satisfaction the building before them.  "Now >this< is
great.  I told ya Ardrey owed me one."

Queriche looked dubiously at the building before them.  It was two stories, as
Moriarty had specified, but that was about the only thing that resembled
Moriarty's specifications.  It was wedged between two larger buildings, set
well back from the street, and in fact almost invisible if you didn't know
exactly where to look.  "Nobody will be able to find it," he pointed out.
"Won't that be bad for business?"

"Yeah, but what a deal we got!  You think it's cheap to get a license from the
Merchant's Guild?  Not when they're runnin' the city.  Now in Naix it's another
story.  There, if a merchant overcharges someone, he complains to the Roi, and
the merchant loses his head.  How simple can you get?"

Queriche shrugged.  He had no sense of business whatsoever.  He was only here
because Moriarty needed muscle.  Especially to move his equipment from the
rathole in Low City he'd been living while waiting to pay off his debt to
Verdigren.  Queriche was not looking forward to that.  Of course, this place
wasn't that far from Low City...which was why it was so cheap.

Moriarty slapped him on the back.  "C'mon, Q.  Let's go to the bank and buy
this place officially.  I mean, it's ours, but they'll want their money before
they admit it.  Right?"

Moriarty flagged down a rickshaw and a burly half-ogre pulled them down the
Arcade of Unforgotten Heroes, across the Plaza of Glittering Steel(Queriche
winced at the sound the rickshaw wheels made on the bare metal), and up the
Arcade of Fountains, to stop in front of a gleaming white building fronted by
large marble pillars.  "This is the place," Moriarty said, hopping off the
rickshaw and absent-mindedly tipping the half-ogre a gold piece.  "Q, you stay
outside.  I'll go in and handle the paperwork."

Queriche was only too happy to oblige.  He could feel cold air wafting out of
the building, and he hated magically cooled buildings.  Not to mention that
he always felt strange around people as richly clothes as he saw inside the
bank.  So he waited and watched passersby until Moriarty emerged about half an
hour later.  He no longer looked quite as ecstatic, and was mumbling to himself
things like "Holding charges, my foot!  Ain't you people heard of interest?  On
anything besides a loan?  Damn, wish I'd kept my money in Naix."

The rest of the day was spent moving the outre magical equipment from the lab
Moriarty had maintained in Low City to their new residence.  Although Queriche
had to do the heavy work, Moriarty was there every step of the way, making
sure the more delicate equipment was properly secured and warded, and that
nobody paid excess attention to them.  Their route was made more circuitous by
the necessity to avoid the Scrappy Ram, but it still wasn't excessively long.
They had to make several trips, and Moriarty agonized that they'd probably be
robbed before they got back.  Obviously the mage didn't trust the efficacy of
his own ward spells, which were all he had cast that day...

Finally they were moved in.  Queriche had had little for possessions, and what
he had, he had grabbed during his flight from the Scrappy Ram and carried in
a pouch slung over his shoulder.

The next day, Moriarty went off to the Town Hall to apply for his Merchant's
License.  He came back grumbling again about money-gougers, but carrying a
license signed by some minor functionary and great-nephew of Melwis that
certified that the business "Moriarty Investigations, Inc." was licensed to
operate under the laws governing such investigatory services.  Those services,
enumerated on a separate sheet, included obligations to the Guard to report
information, liability for interference in criminal investigations, and the
like.

He scribbled off a note and handed it to Queriche.  "Here, take this to the
Dragon's Inn and put it on their noteboard, will you?"

"The Dragon's Inn?  But..."

"Hey--I figure we're gonna be perfect for adventurers comin' through town.  If
we don't do so hot our first few times, then they're not goin' to stay here
spreadin' nasty rumours about us, y'know?  Besides, you rather go put it up at
the Scrappy Ram?"

So Queriche went to the Dragon's Inn.  None of Kron's party were there,
thankfully, so he walked as unobtrusively as he could to the Bulletin Board
and posted Moriarty's message, which read:

|--------------------------------|
| Moriarty Investigations, Inc.  |
|                                |
|    Magic and muscle at your    |
| service!  No problem too large |
|  or small!  Reasonable rates!  |
|                                |
|          Find us at            |
|   15A-Gamma Cor Caroli Lane    |
|    Just off the Arcade of      |
|      Unforgotten Heroes!       |
|--------------------------------|

--
---Alfvaen(a.k.a. Aaron V. Humphrey, Page of Newts)
Canadian Network For Space Research, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
"John Wayne in a slip?  Now _that_ would be silly."  Axel Fusco
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